When Lightning Strikes
by Paco The Taco Maker
Summary: He was no longer the little boy that wished for their approval or the defenseless boy that ended up as their scapegoat. He was a man, hardened by their betrayal and the lot life had thrown at him. If they think he will just bend down and be content to be their dog once more, they were going to be in for a world of disappointment. [Dino/Harry]
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Amano respectively. I'm borrowing just their wonderful works in order to entertain the people who will bother to read this.

**Summary:** After having finally found some peace, it shouldn't surprise anyone that he wasn't amused at being dragged back into their fold just because they finally realized their mistake. He was no longer the little boy that wished for their approval or the defenseless boy that ended up as their scapegoat; he was a man, hardened by their betrayal and the lot life had thrown at him. If they think he will just bend down and be content to be their dog once more, they were going to be in for a world of disappointment. He wasn't given the moniker "Zeus the Eagle-Eye" for nothing after all.

**Warning(s):** This story contains blood, comical/extreme violence, dark themes, offensive language, homosexual themes (SLASH), etc. If any of these offend you, then I would kindly advise you to not go beyond this point. If you continue anyway and get upset, then I don't care to know about it at all. You should've accepted my warning. Before we get started there are several things that I should warn you about before you get started. The Harry Potter canon is very different due to events that will become obvious. If there will be bashing, then it will be light. I'm not trying to turn this into a bash fest, as the storyline itself is more important to me in the long run. Hopefully you will be able to live with that.

* * *

_**When Lightning Strikes**_

[Prologue]: A Hero's Return

* * *

With the lack of a certain idiot's larger body draped over his own, he immediately tensed and readied his body to spring up and lash out at whoever invaded his space. He was certain of only one thing, and that was that he definitely wasn't where he remembered falling asleep.

It had been years since he has woken up by himself, and his lover always made sure to never leave him alone due to the sappy promise they made during one of his more vulnerable moments. But it wasn't only that which set him on edge; it was the familiar buzz of an energy he knew was unique to himself that seemed to permeate the very air around him.

A familiar energy that caused the pain in his scar to intensify, startling him more than he would like to admit before he managed to dull it.

The feel of magic; magic that didn't belong to him!

He could hear voices near him, muffled but the giddiness in the tone was unmistakable. Moments later the sound of footsteps and the voices grew closer, and he readied himself as the sound of a door opening reached his ears. To anyone below the level of the Arcobaleno, they would assume that he was asleep. But he was getting ready, small jolts of electricity sparking beneath his hand that rested on his side blocked from the view of whoever was coming into the room.

"Everything seems to be fine and besides a slight case of magical exhaustion, there seems to be no real side-effects from his summoning through the Veil Minister." A soft voice broke the silence of the room, which was followed closely by a heavy relieved sigh from the second occupant of the room. The smell of sweat reached his nose, and he resisted the urge to crinkle his nose at the disgusting scent.

"That's good, it would've just made things harder if he was brought back to us in a horrible condition…there is already too much that needs to be made up for and adding injury wouldn't help anything." A stern voice replied evenly, though a hint of impatience peeked its way through. The sound of shuffling from the second person, a woman, if he guessed correctly, was nervous around the "Minister".

An aggravated sigh broke the uncomfortable silence, and the clearing of a voice seemed to prompt the woman to jump before she came near him. "So far he hasn't shown signs of waking up, and we weren't sure if using a Rennervate would be the right choice…we don't know if the traces of the veil left on him will have a volatile reaction…" But she was cut off by the man.

"You have my permission. We don't have enough time as it is, and we need to get down to business…the sooner he learns the current situation and realizes his position, the better the Wizarding World will be for it."

The woman didn't seem to protest, and was making her way towards him.

It seemed like he was going to have to act.

His worst fear had just been confirmed.

* * *

Lenora Strout had been ecstatic when she found out she would be the Mediwitch in charge of looking after the recently returned savior. After all, she would be in charge of nursing the Boy-Who-Lived to perfect health and then send him off to once again fight You-Know-Who.

After the revelation of Harry Potter's innocence from the crimes he had been pushed through the veil for, she like everyone else that had condemned the boy wanted nothing more than to have him returned to the Wizarding World where he belonged. She like others believed that if they only explain that at the time he had seemed guilty then he would forgive them for what they've done and take care of the Dark Lord that had risen two years after he was convicted.

'He's the Boy-Who-Lived…surely he will forgive us right?' she thought, staring at the sleeping man on the bed.

Yes, that was one thing that everyone found strange.

Instead of the 15-year-old they were all expecting, Harry Potter had been brought back to them with the appearance of a twenty-three year-old man. At first they had believed this to be a side-effect of the travel through the Veil, but all diagnosis spells had stated that he was in fact twenty-three. A blush stained her cheeks as her mind drifts to the man sleeping in the personalized room.

Wherever their savior had been, apparently time had been kind to him in the looks department. A handsome, stern face with tanned skin (though some of the scars on his body were worrying) and a lithely muscled frame; he was the epitome of the desires of every female in the Wizarding world with a healthy libido. Even his scar, which had been lengthened down to the middle of his cheek over the eyelid and a little grim, only added to the "bad boy" image the man was unconsciously making.

The best part is she had the best possibility of ending up with this delicious piece of man if she played her cards right!

Having been the one who looked after him while he healed (ignoring the fact that he wasn't really all that injured), she was sure that he would feel grateful towards her. That gratefulness could very well develop into a romantic interest, and even later full-blown romance like in her favorite romance novels!

Giggling, Lenora then turned her attention back towards the negative aspects of the job.

For days now there had been multitudes of people that have shown up to get a glimpse at the "Boy-Who-Lived". Even other nurses tried to do so despite it being against protocol and the Minister of Magic's order. Sniffing at the thought of the Minister, she stiffened as she looked up to see the very person she was thinking of come waltzing out of the Floo Network.

Standing there in front of the fireplace was the current Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, stared at her with his yellow eyes above the wire-framed glasses that were perched on top of his nose. If there was a downside to this job, it was dealing with this sour man. Yes, he was a very good Minister during these dark times (especially after having someone like Cornelius Fudge in charge before), but he just gave her the creeps.

"Strout, I expect that there is some good news on Mr. Potter's condition?" the man inquired, his eyes pinning her in place.

Lenora only shivered as she nodded, "Yes Minister, Mr. Potter is in better shape than he was when he arrived, though there wasn't much wrong with him to begin with besides some of the magic from the veil clinging to him." This she stated frankly.

It had been true after all.

Considering all the things that could've gone wrong, the little amount of problems they did have were inconsequential.

The lion-like man then gestured towards the door leading towards the man's room, and she sighed as she got up from her seat. She knew that he would want to see him.

"I've been told that some people have tried to visit Mr. Potter, Albus Dumbledore to be more precise…" the man trailed off, obviously wanting her to confirm or deny his words.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she stopped in front of the door and traced the runes that had been etched into the door for extra security.

"He had Minister Scrimgeour, but I had turned him away like everyone else, just as you ordered."

That seemed to satisfy him as he seemed to have nothing more to say on the subject.

Opening the door, the two stepped into the room and Lenora took in the many gifts of flowers that had been sent in by well-wishers. Her eyes trailed from the beautiful flowers decorating the room to the sleeping figure on the bed. Not that she got enough time to continue her ogling, because the Minister decided at that moment to open his mouth with another question.

"So what exactly is wrong with Mr. Potter here, and why hasn't he regained consciousness?" Scrimgeour queried, his eyes coming to rest on the one person that could make or break the situation that the Ministry was currently in.

Ever since it had come to light that the Boy-Who-Murdered, was in fact the Boy-Who-Was-Innocent after Voldemort's return and consequent confession to the crime.

Things hadn't been going well for the Ministry.

Not only had Fudge been sacked almost immediately after this news was released, the Ministry ,as a whole, found itself under scrutiny as other failings had been brought to life.

Sirius Black, an Auror he once worked with, but had once assumed to be a turncoat, was in fact innocent.

The man had broken out of Azkaban and then barrelled into the Burrow of the Weasley family. After snatching the youngest son's pet rat, he used his magic to force the rat to turn into a human. Much to the horror of those present, it was a man the Wizarding World had once thought dead.

Peter Pettigrew.

The truth behind that Halloween night had been revealed and immediately the public called for there to be an investigation into the process that led to the Pureblood heir's imprisonment.

'Things only got worse after it was revealed that he had received no trial, and had just been tossed into Azkaban.' The tawny-haired man grimaced at the demands that public made, and the number of people that had to be sacked in order to placate the people of Wizarding Britain.

Now here was another man that had been "wronged" by the Ministry, and who the public wanted to fulfill their desires.

'All too ready to forget that it was their wish for him to be condemned for the crime…'

Really the people of the British Wizarding World were so fickle.

One second they rallied behind you, and the next they are ready to throw you under the Knight Bus, if it meant they could be comfortable.

"All of his vitals are fine aside a slight case of magical exhaustion, but other than that, there seems to be no real side-effects from his summoning through the Veil." The young woman reported, though her eyes were on the young man in the bed.

Glancing over at the young woman, the Minister tried to hold back the scowl that had wanted to take its place on his face.

His Aurors, which he had posted around the man's room had reported to him about the young woman's activities since she had been placed in charge of Potter's care. Like many other women, she was another of Potter's admirers, and usually that would immediately get her exchanged for another person more suitable for the job. They had already had a case of his previous caretaker trying to slip Amortentia into his water, but that had been stopped just in time. At least this time, the woman only kept her fantasies to herself and continued to do the job that was expected of her.

"That's good, it would've just made things a lot more complicated if he was brought back to us in a horrible condition. There is already too much that needs to be made up for and adding injury wouldn't help anything." And he honestly believed that, but he was also not in the state of mind to deal with a petulant man demanding recompense from the Ministry for the blunders of those who weren't even in employ anymore.

That had been the aftermath of Sirius Black being proved innocent, especially when he had been informed of the nearly-identical handling of his godson's case.

This was only another blunder that Scrimgeour had to make up for despite that none of this had been of his doing.

Like with Sirius Black, in Harry Potter's case there was no one else who could've done the crime they were accused of.

Despite protests from the victim's elder brother, and only a few others about Potter's innocence, everything pointed to the boy being the culprit.

"It was an open and shut case really" the famous (now infamous) words of Cornelius Fudge spouted to the press after the boy had been pushed through the Veil. And now those words were being used against the Ministry.

"Minister…" breaking out of his quickly down spiraling thoughts, the stoic man opened his eyes with an aggravated sigh and only glanced over at her, obviously waiting for her to voice whatever it is that she needed his attention for. "So far he hasn't shown signs of waking up, and we weren't sure if using a Rennervate would be the right choice…we don't know if the traces of the veil left on him will have a volatile reaction…"

Raising a hand to cut her off, Scrimgeour frowned.

"You have my permission. We don't have enough time as it is, and we need to get down to business…the sooner he learns the current situation and realizes his position, the better the Wizarding World will be for it."

The woman seemed unsure, but she started over towards the sleeping man. Her wand was in her hand, and she came to hover by the young man's side to wake him up. So when the man's eyes suddenly snapped open and latched onto the woman, it was no small thing to say that she and Scrimgeour were shocked.

Especially when the man shot up from his bed and struck like a cobra, and the last thing the two saw before they blacked out were stony bright green eyes and then a bright flash.

* * *

Electricity crackled between his fingertips as he glanced down at the unconscious witch and wizard at his feet. His bright green eyes were narrowed on the two in contempt, as he looked around the room immediately his mind went to assessing the situation he was in.

No longer was he in the world that he had come to call his home; he was back in the world that he had never expected to see again. 'Never wished to see again', he decided bitterly. Reaching a hand up to the lightning bolt scar that ran down from his forehead to his cheek, he gritted his teeth at the irritation that arose as foreign magic brushed against his skin and the burning that arose in his scar with every beat of his heart.

He had no idea what the hell the Wizarding World wanted or did in order to get him back here, but he knew that he could not linger any longer. Looking down at the two, he scowled as he realized that he would have to do something with them in order to make sure that his escape wouldn't be noticed too soon.

With the flick of his wrist, the two levitated up from the ground and came to hover right in front of him. Gesturing towards the hospital cot, he laid their bodies down on the bed, placing the woman on top of the man before closing the curtains that surrounded his bed. Snapping his fingers, the hospital gown that adorned his body was replaced with his usual outfit of black jeans with holsters on his thighs, a dark grey zip-up shirt with a high collar with the strap for his other holster across his chest. Instead of the usual trench coat he wore, he had instead opted for a robe in order to conceal his outfit.

In order to get out of here without anyone noticing, he was going to need to be inconspicuous as possible. Going around in his trench coat would definitely gain him more attention than he needed.

'But before that…' he trailed off mentally, turning his attention to the unconscious minister currently slumbering away on his bed. Moving closer, he leaned over the man and opened his eyes.

His own eyes were glowing ominously, "Let's get an idea of where I am and how I'm going to get out of here."

Diving in the man's mind, he shifted through the man's memories quickly, grabbing the information he needed before pulling out. Like he had thought, he was in a private room within St. Mungo's, and the only way he was going to get out was through the main hall.

'I'm going to have to go quickly before someone comes up and investigates.' Making his way towards the door, a mirror on the wall caught his attention.

Knowing how iconic his eyes are in this world, it didn't take much to change the bright green he inherited from his mother into a muddy brown and his hair into a similar shade of brown, and his skin tone the same pale shade he had in his childhood.

Sharp brown eyes drifted towards the obvious scar on his face and he brought a hand up to his face. Dragging his finger along the scar, it slowly disappeared from sight. Just as his finger slid over the point of the scar, the mirror suddenly spoke up. "I don't know why you chose to change your lovely eyes, I don't blame you for covering that scar dear! It was positively ghastly!"

Harry left the room and the floor of the room was covered with shards of shattered glass.

Coming into the hallway, he looked around and mentally sighed in relief that there seemed to be no one else currently in the area. Stretching out his senses, he could feel the different types of magic that surrounded him and couldn't help but feel his skin crawl.

It truly has been too long since he felt this much magic around him…

Going over to the desk, he looked through the file on the desk. Much to his irritation (and relief), it was a file on him. His green eyes quickly scanned the documents, and his lips curled down into a frown.

'Well isn't this interesting…' He thought, closing the file and slipping it into the pocket of his trench coat.

Apparently the witches and wizards had been some busy little bees for the three years after his subsequent "execution" via the Death Veil.

Voldemort has reappeared, stronger than ever with a quickly growing army in order to once again try for complete dominance over Wizarding Britain.

Not only that, but he had admitted that the unleashing of the Basilisk on Hogwarts during his second year, and the death of Ginevra Molly "Ginny" Weasley had in fact been done at the hand of his horcrux.

The very same crime the only hope they had to stop the Dark Wizard had been sentenced to limbo for.

Needless to say, the sheep of the Wizarding World were quick to demand for the Ministry to bring him back. Completely disregarding the fact that it had been the public's opinion, which caused him to be thrown through the Veil with little to no chance to defend himself in the first place.

All the while, Voldemort had been openly recruiting any and all who felt the call of his cause without interruption, besides some moves from a group called _The Order of the Phoenix_.

Snorting, he made his way over towards the fireplace and spotted the Floo Powder made readily available in a bowl. Grabbing a decent handful, memories of a previous time flooded into his mind.

"Toss it into the fire, step in and state your destination clearly" his lips curled into a sneer as he remembered the sound of _that_ woman's voice.

Without any further hesitation, he threw the powder into the fire and stepped through the flames.

"St. Mungo's, Ground Floor." In a swirl of green fire, he watched as the room in front of him disappeared and quickly was replaced with his destination.

The sudden influx of magic in the room struck him and he almost caused him to trip when he came out of the fireplace. But thankfully he had managed to catch himself before the Floo could toss him out on his ass. Straightening himself up, he managed to avoid the gazes of those who looked up, and was content when they looked away after finding him uninteresting.

It was quite crowded in the reception area, a lot of Healers and Mediwizards being called over to look at injured being brought it. One more person among the hundreds already present shouldn't garner more than an iota of attention.

It seemed that things looked bleaker than ever for Wizarding Britain. Unfortunately for them, Harry had long since lost any sympathy he could've held for them.

'They have done this to themselves, and I want no part of it…I need to find a way back to the Death Veil." Tilting his face downward, he quickly maneuvered his way through the crowd, making sure that he didn't bump into anyone. In no time, he was making his way towards the entrance of the building.

So it was a surprise to him when he was suddenly barreled into by black-robed figure.

Once upon a time, Harry probably would've fallen over if this had occurred to him. But Harry has long since gotten over the clumsiness he possessed in youth.

It was a must with the life he lived as a Hitman.

After all the smallest slip could very well mean life or death when you had other people gunning for your life, literally.

The man he bumped into seemed to steady himself as well, and whipped his head in Harry's direction.

"Do you not have eyes? Watch where you're going you –" whatever the man had to say was cut off, as his eyes suddenly seemed glued to his face. Familiar dark eyes, which used to look at him with such scorn that his skin could have been flayed by the intensity, caused Man-who-Lived to curse inwardly at this turn of events.

It is just his luck that the first person he runs into, would be his old Potions Professor.

* * *

_Lily._

That was the immediate thought that sprung in his mind as he took in the face of the man he had bumped into. Despite the color of his eyes being an forgettable and common brown (far from the brilliant green orbs his once friend and forever unrequited love called eyes), the shape of his eyes and cheekbones made him think of the fiery-haired woman that was cut down way before her time.

Only one other person possessed those eyes and cheekbones (not that he admitted it all those years ago), and that person was supposed to be laying up in a private room in St. Mungo's under the Minister's watch.

He watched as those eyes widened slightly, and he realized that he had said her name out loud. But the look was only brief as the man's surprise disappeared and he only took a step back with a short nod before he walked off briskly. And that made the Potions Master suspicious.

Severus Tobias Snape kept his eyes on the man, until he couldn't see him anymore. His dark eyes narrowed and his lips pinched as he tried to spot him out in the crowd. After a bit, he decided to put it away for later thought and was about to make his way further into St. Mungo's when a ruckus suddenly started up from further into the Reception Hall.

There was no way that the man, who looked to be in his twenties at most, could be the fifteen-year-old boy Wizarding Britain was placing their hopes in.

'Dumbledore was quite insistent that I find out some information on how the brat is doing…' he scowled in disgust.

The old wizard was just as bad as everyone else…even more so in fact, in Snape's opinion.

How could he not when he was placing the hopes of their world on the shoulders of a child?

Shaking his head, he dropped his train of thought. He had more important tasks to take care of instead of pondering on the fate of the James Potter's spawn.

"HE HAS ESCAPED! AURORS HAVE EVERYONE LINE UP FOR IDENTIFICATION! LOCK DOWN THE EXITS! NO ONE LEAVES! " the amplified voice bellowed, and suddenly all movement in the building ceased.

Like the parting of the Red Sea in the Bible, immediately the occupants of the hallway towards the exit parted and the Minister followed by several Aurors were barreling down in his direction.

"STOP RIGHT THERE POTTER!" Rufus Scrimgeour commanded, and gasps rang throughout the Hospital at the name.

Severus himself stiffened in shock and turned to look towards the Entrance, which had been shut down immediately at the Minister's command.

In front of the door was a man standing with his back towards them all.

All eyes were on him, as the Minister moved forward.

Mutterings began to stir as the Minister and Aurors came within a short distance from the man, who was being called the Boy-Who-Lived.

The same boy, who had only recently been extracted from the Veil by Unspeakables.

The same boy Wizarding Britain had been clamoring for to see once more.

For a second, the man didn't move but then raised his arms in the muggle fashion of surrender.

"Color me impressed…I hadn't realized that you would recover from the paralysis so quickly, much less have a way to lockdown the hospital with only a voice command…" the tone of the man's voice was irking, making Severus think of a certain dead Gryffindor much to his displeasure.

Slowly, the man turned around and faced everyone. His brown eyes were narrowed and the downward tilt of the corners of his lips showed his displeasure.

"It seems that the sheep have put someone competent into office and gotten rid of that shitty bastard _Fudge_."

The name of the previous Minister was said in such an acidic tone that caused some around him to cringe, while some bristled at being called sheep.

The Minister's amber eyes were locked onto the man's form, and anyone could see that he didn't like "Potter's" attitude.

"Enough with these theatrics, Mr. Potter! There are things that we need to discuss now that you're awake…" he was about to continue, but was cut off when "Potter" scoffed.

"Things to discuss you say? Things like the fact that Voldemort (Many flinched at the nonchalant calling of the Dark Lord's name, Snape noticed in exasperation) is back, and you've realized that you've screwed the pooch so to speak?" Dark eyes watched as the Minister stiffened along with his Aurors, and everyone else in the hall around them.

Scrimgeour glanced around him briefly, before clearing his throat. "Yes, while that is true there is much more we have to discuss…things that are too sensitive to discuss here."

"Potter" hummed while tilting his head, "I know all about the things that you want to discuss Minister…unfortunately, I don't really feel much like listening to whatever you have to say, much less talking. So I'll be taking my leave." As he moved to turn around and continue towards the door, no one was prepared for one of the Aurors to step forward.

"INCARCEROUS!" they yelled in unison, pointing their wands in "Potter's" direction.

Numerous cords of ropes shot off towards the dark-haired man in front of the entrance. As the ropes made their within arms-length of the man, he simply spun around and lifted a hand out in front of him. A shield of light (much to the shock of everyone in the room) stopped the rope from reaching him, causing them to drop down to the ground. Dropping the shield while they were distracted, lightning crackled around his body and laced around the ground near his feet. The ropes were immediately flash fried.

With a wave of his hand, the Lightning then streaked towards the entrance of the Hospital. The deafening sound of the entrance of St. Mungo's exploding caused many to clap hands to their ears. Dust and other debris were kicked up by the blast, obscuring the man from view.

Unlike many, Snape had silently muffled his hearing while banishing the smoke around him, the aftermath of the light show the man, who was apparently Harry Potter, just put on.

Everything was in disarray, but it seemed that despite how destructive the power seemed, Harry hadn't actually hurt anyone. The Potions Master looked at the entrance, and his eyes widened as whatever spells Potter had been using to conceal his true appearance (if the Minister was to be believed).

Instead of the muddy brown eyes he had sported previously, apathetic vivid green eyes stared deeply into his own. Going down the right side of his face was the iconic lightning bolt scar. Only, the lightning bolt now stretched down from his forehead over the eyelid down till the middle of his cheek. It was obvious to anyone with eyes, that it hadn't been healed properly and resulted in its current grisly appearance.

Those who had been at the trial however, remembered how this came to be; Severus being one of them.

"I don't know how you dragged me back here, but if you think I'll do your bidding like some dog then you are sadly mistaken…Don't send anyone after me, because I will not hesitate to **_kill_**." His voice was clear over the chaos ensuing in the entrance hall of St. Mungo's.

Nothing more was said as he walked out of St. Mungo's, and then disappeared with a crackle of lightning.

Immediately after his disappearance, everyone had broken out of the dazes and chaos ensued.

Snape watched as the Minister roared for the Aurors to find him and bring him to the Ministry, _**alive**_, and the Potions Master stealthily made his way to the exit.

"I'm sure that Dumbledore will be interested in this…as well as the Dark Lord." Looking once more at the look of humiliation on the Minister's face.

The Potions Master couldn't help but smirk, he would save the memory of that face in his pensieve later.

With that last thought, the dreaded dungeon bat of Hogwarts disappeared with a crack.

* * *

Landing in the forests outside of Surrey, Harry cursed.

Why did things always have to be so difficult for him?

While he had received some satisfaction with screwing with the Ministry's plans, he knew he should have probably gone with another more stealthy option.

Unfortunately, it seems that he still held quite a grudge against the Wizarding world despite the number of years that has passed.

Most would think the display childish, but the scarred man couldn't find it in himself to give a single fuck about the opinions of others unimportant to him.

'I'm sure they all would be surprised, if they had seen that display…that shitty marshmallow-eating bastard would just be all shits and giggles about it.' Harry thought, a small smirk forming on his lips at the thought of strangling the smug dimension-hopper that had become an ally after having been an enemy.

Even now, he couldn't understand how that man's mind worked, especially since he had the tendency to hit on him at any given chance.

Some in their group found it funny, while his lover didn't at all.

"Speaking of that idiot, he is no doubt raising a fuss over my disappearance…" this Harry had no doubt, as the blond had already complained about the fact that he had only just returned the day before after a long mission co-op mission with the Cloud Guardian of the Vongola on Tsuna's request.

About time he had stepped into the idiot's mansion, the man was practically ripping his clothes off in front of the servants and his famiglia. The sad thing was that Harry almost allowed him to do it; it seems that when he's in front of his famiglia that his clumsy tendencies that he found irritatingly cute disappeared in more ways than one.

Suddenly something in his pocket buzzed causing Harry to tense up.

Glancing down at the pocket of his trench coat, he slipped his hand down into his pocket and was surprised to see a compact mirror. Raising a brow, he flipped open the top and was met with a slightly static image of a relieved Irie Shōichi.

"_Ah, Zeus-san! I'm so happy that this worked! I hadn't believed Byakuran-san, but he was right!"_ The redhead smiled, and Harry could feel himself relax at the sight of a familiar face and nodded.

"While I'm more than a little confused about how you're able to reach me at the moment...I am glad that you were able to regardless." Though now thinking about it, the green-eyed male wondered why he had never thought to contact them with the gadget.

"_Chiavarone-san had showed up and said that you had disappeared with no trace! You had no missions, and so Tsuna-san had asked if I could somehow get in contact with you._" For a moment, the boy turned away from the camera (most likely to face his computer) before he looked back with a confused look.

"_Where are you Zeus-san, I should be able to pick up your location…but there is interference._"

Running a hand through his bangs, Harry sighed.

This was going to be a pain to explain.

"Before that, I would like to request that you gather everyone there in the lab. Just so I don't have to explain this too many times."

Shōichi stared at him for a moment, but he obviously saw the grim expression on Harry's face and got what he was trying to get across.

Nodding, he turned away from the camera again and obviously was sending a message for everyone to gather.

Some time later, everyone was assembled in the room (even the Shimon famiglia for whatever fucking reason beyond his comprehension).

The mentioned group shifted in place, obviously noticing his displeasure at their presence and feeling uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

The sheepish, and pleading look on the Vongola Decimo's face barely kept him from lashing out at them.

Harry knew that the incident had resolved itself, but unlike the others he was in no way ready to forgive the Shimon after the stunt they tried to pull.

Glancing at the group standing next to the current Vongola Guardians once more, he then dismissed them with a snort.

"_HARRY!"_ jumping slightly at the sudden shout of his name, the camera was suddenly filled with the face of his lover, who was sporting more than a few bruises. Bruises from his clumsiness, which was probably worse than usual after his disappearance.

At the sight, he couldn't stop the small fond smile that formed on his lips.

The embarrassed flush and smile on the blond's face only warmed the cold heart that now rested in his chest.

"Hello Dino, as clumsy as ever I see."

* * *

**End of Prologue**

* * *

Well, what do you think? I think I've improved quite a bit from what I used to do! Anyway, I hope to be back soon enough with the next chapter…though I'll see what kind of response this story gets.

Laterz~


	2. Consequences I

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Amano respectively. I'm borrowing just their wonderful works in order to entertain the people who will bother to read this.

**Author's Note:** Okay, it seems that I owe an apology to my readers…it seems that in my haste in posting a chapter before going to class and taking a long break until after finals, I accidentally uploaded the (unfinished) draft of my third chapter. o(╥﹏╥)o I'm a failure, and I wouldn't have noticed if someone hadn't mentioned the lack of follow up of Harry's talk with the KHR cast in a review since I don't really read the chapters after I post them – leads to me wanting to read stories more than working on my own. I blame this on my tendency to copy/paste my "disclaimer, author's note, story title, chapter title, and end of chapter" format for each new chapter and change the numbers as needed. But it seems that I wasn't exactly paying attention when posting, and for that I apologize! _**I APOLOGIZE MY READERS! I APOLOGIZE TO THE WHOLE WORLD! **_｡･ﾟﾟ･ (д) ･ﾟﾟ･｡

Well I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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When Lightning Strikes

[Chapter 1]: Interlude - The Consequences of Ignorance (Part I) -

* * *

Dino Chiavarone was considered to be many things: clumsy and oblivious at the worst times possible, but stupid was never one of them.

Ever since he had managed to get some of his lover's past from him, the boss of the Chiavarone famiglia had always had the feeling that he wasn't told everything. That was just the way the hitman was. Even Tsuna, who Harry treated as his own little brother, had confessed to not knowing much about the man personally. It was something that the younger male had been embarrassed to admit, especially after considering everything the hitman had done for Tsuna's famiglia.

Despite the fact that Harry has pretty much served as nothing more than a glorified babysitter, protector, and mentor for him and his friends for the past two or so years. None of them could truthfully say that they knew much about him or his past, and usually they would just left it at that.

'Well not everyone…' he thought with amusement, his eyes trailing over towards his off and on student Hibari Kyoya, the Cloud Guardian of the Vongola's 10th generation famiglia.

Seeing as Harry has been one of the few people, whom have gained the skylark's respect. It had surprised no one that the Disciplinary Committee leader had attempted to find out as much information on the green-eyed man as possible.

Unfortunately, like any who attempted before him, he could find nothing before Harry's entrance into the mafia scene.

For a long time, Dino has had the feeling that Harry would have never revealed his past if he could help it, and he had even began to come and accept this – though sad over the obvious reluctance the other had with sharing such information with him.

So for him to have to find out due to these circumstances, the blond couldn't help but feel _**cheated**_…that was the only word he could think of for it. After all, he knew that eventually he could've wheedled it out of the dark-haired hitman if he really tried, seeing as he was able to get some snippets of the other's life before he had gained the moniker of "Zeus the Eagle Eye".

Things like his parents had died when he was young, and he had lived with his aunt and uncle that hadn't liked him much. Dino could sense there was more to that, but there was something in Harry's green eyes that prevented him from following through with that line of questioning.

He had been told that he had went to school and had two of the best friends in the world, before something happened, which caused him to have to leave his life behind.

Out of all the ideas he had come up with, to hear the truth was baffling to him.

The idea that his lover wasn't even from their _dimension_ was quite startling, though not very much when he thought of a certain marshmallow-eating nut job.

It was then that Shōichi spoke up,

"So what you're saying is that you are – were, anyway – a wizard being trained in a school where they teach you to use your ability, but due to you being falsely accused of killing a fellow student you were tossed through a curtain (the last word he said with a skeptical tone) and landed here in our world…" the redhead trailed off, and the black-haired man sighed and ran his fingers through his wild hair.

"Yeah, it's true and unfortunately it seems that these idiots realized how much they fucked up and managed to summon me back through the Death _curtain_ somehow." Dino couldn't help but smile at the slight twitch at the corner of Harry's lips as he put an emphasis on the word.

It really show how far the other man has come to be willing enough to show even the slightest sign of amusement in front of others, when in the past nothing seemed to move him. Comparing the cold man Dino had first met after coming to see his "younger brother" to the man looking at them from the screen before them, was like comparing night and day.

To break the small silence after his words, Tsuna spoke up. "Harry-Nii, what are you going to do now?"

Dino watched as Harry stared at Tsuna silently for a few minutes, his lips drawn into a thin line.

He said nothing for a time, but then sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"At the moment there is nothing much I could do besides lay low, and avoid the British Wizarding Community until I make a plan of attack…I am not going to allow myself to become their attack dog against dark wizards." The hand he was running through his hair then slid down, following the line of his neck.

The blond wasn't ashamed to admit that the other was unknowingly teasing him with his – to Dino – provocative actions. His lover's neck has always been one the other's more fetching traits besides his eyes, toned body, voice...okay he needed to stop.

"Keep your perverted thoughts to yourself idiot, now is not the time." Hearing those words, Dino jumped and lifted his gaze to see the completely unimpressed expression on his lover's face. Glancing around, he saw that some of the others were snickering, while others only smirked.

Flushing a bright red at being called out. He scratched the back of his head while chuckling nervously.

"A-Ah, well you can blame me when you're teasing me like that!" this only caused the Lightning user to tilt his head slightly to the side in confusion. For a moment, he seemed to be considering what the hell the other meant, but right after seemed to discard it for later musing.

"My idiot's random lechery aside, I just want to know that if things go south that I will at least have a backup plan?"

At his question, everyone turned to look towards Shōichi and Byakuran. It was clear to everyone that if they had any hope of getting Harry back to their world, the redhead and marshmallow-eating menace were their best hope.

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Shōichi glanced over at the extremely amused violet-eyed leader of the Millefiore Famiglia, he sighed.

"We'll see what we can do Zeus-san."

* * *

**End of Chapter 1**

* * *

I'm so happy with all the reviews that I've received so far. Since people seemed to like this story, I had decided to just go ahead and work on the next chapter and get it out to you guys. I've noticed that a lot of people are hoping for a Dark Harry, and you're in luck because that is what you will get. He's not going to be mindlessly slaughtering wizards left and right, no. But this also isn't one of those "Harry forgives all" stories either. Any and all notions of forgiveness had been basically beaten out of him during his first few years in the KHR world, and that will show here if it already hasn't that is.

Also if someone wants to volunteer to be my Beta, just let me know in a PM. That would definitely be appreciated. Like I said, any constructive suggestions that would help me improve my writing will always be welcome. Just don't be a dick about it, and it'll be fine. 8D

Laterz~


	3. Consequences II

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Amano respectively. I'm borrowing just their wonderful works in order to entertain the people who will bother to read this.

**Author's Note:**I think that I've unknowingly confused some people; Harry is _**older **_than Tsuna, he is 23, a few months older than Dino, actually. I'm not a fan of pairings consisting of an adult with someone under-aged. I'm sure I put that somewhere in the chapter, but if not I hope this cleared that up. As for contacting Harry from a different dimension, seeing as Byakuran can traverse between the verses, I didn't think it would be too much of a stretch. Also, everyone if you see errors, please by all means inform me of them. I am doing this to improve, and my feelings won't be too hurt unless you're just being a jerk. Q _Q (wipes tears)

Well I hope you enjoy this chapter darlings~ it had taken quite a bit of work to get done.

* * *

_**When Lightning Strikes**_

[Chapter 2]: The Consequences of Ignorance (Part II)

* * *

Slipping away from the dining hall where the Order of the Phoenix was now in an uproar over the news of Harry's confrontation with the Minister and Aurors, and subsequent disappearance from St. Mungo's.

Ron Weasley's blue eyes hardened with determination as he made his way towards the other teenagers, who were waiting for him while tucking the "Extendable Ears" his older brothers had given him in the pocket of his trousers.

The last two years had been hell for the sixth child of the Weasley family; after losing his younger sister and then his best friend. Ron had thrown himself into his studies with the help of Hermione in order to get ready for what he knew was coming. He believed his friend when stated that Voldemort (or a piece of him at least), had been what had set the Basilisk upon the school and in the end had murdered his sister in the Chamber of Secrets.

But he, unfortunately, had been one of the only people who were willing to believe that his friend was innocent of the crime he was accused of.

Despite only knowing the boy for a little less than two years, if there was one thing that he could honestly believe. It would be that Harry Potter couldn't have killed anyone much less his younger sister.

Harry just didn't have it in him.

It just didn't fit who the shy boy, who wanted nothing more than to be "just Harry", was.

How no one else had seen this, he would never know. Even to this day he had to hold back the urge to cackle and say "I told you so" to the people who had believed otherwise.

When the team of Aurors arrived in the Hospital Wing, tailing the (now former) Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge to charge his friend with Ginny's murder, Ron had vehemently protested against the accusation that it was Harry that had killed his sister.

But he was ignored, even by his own parents, who turned their grief-filled then enraged gazes upon the Boy-Who-Lived. His mother, even more so than his father, while Dumbledore was trying to dissuade the Minister from taking this course all the while not making it clear whether he believed Harry did it or not.

That was what condemned Harry more than anything.

If Dumbledore, the man who many believed was Harry's mentor didn't believe in or fight for his innocence, then obviously he is guilty right?

Ron could remember raging at the adults around them when he was denied the right to testify in his friend's trial. He then turned this rage towards his mother, who he knew with her last actions as Harry was tossed into the Veil, had undoubtedly hurt the boy more than she would ever know.

It was no secret that Harry didn't have a happy childhood living with those muggle relatives of his. The bars on his windows from when he and his brothers retrieved him, the hand-me-down clothes, and the overall "skin and bones" appearance he had when they first met said a lot.

Even he, despite his usual obliviousness to things outside of himself, had noticed it!

Ron may have been jealous of his friend's fortune and fame at one point, but he wasn't blind to see just how much receiving a simple sweater for Christmas made the green-eyed boy's face light up with happiness. As well as how content he had been when he had been accepted into his family's fold, the moment he stepped foot into the Burrow.

Once Hermione had recovered from her time being petrified, she had become another major voice in proclaiming that Harry had been innocent and all those who believed otherwise were imbeciles. Of course, this hadn't won them any points with the other students, as they believed the spiel that the Daily Prophet had spouted about Harry being an apple that fell _very_ far from the tree from the moment it was hot of the presses.

So it was ironic that it was only at the end of their fourth year that Harry's innocence had been proven by the reappearance of the very man, who had been behind it all in the first place.

Voldemort.

The person Harry had proclaimed to be the murderer of his sister, and the very same suspect that the Ministry had deemed unlikely before turning around and using Harry's own words as a way to desecrate Harry's character even more in the eyes of the Wizarding World.

'_Not that they needed any help in that regard.'_ Ron thought bitterly.

Coming to one of the many doors in the hall of #12 Grimmauld Place, he rapped his knuckles on the door three times. After a second, the click of the door unlocking reached his ear. Twisting the doorknob, he walked in and was faced with several wands in his face.

Not for the first time, Ron grimaced at how things had come to this. It was becoming more and more obvious that the younger generation couldn't leave things up to the older generation, as they were proving to be ineffective and overall useless.

Just look at how they handled Harry's situation.

And even now after everything they have done to him, they just expected Harry to take care of their problems for them!

As much as they would like to continue on living their childhoods happily, they all knew such a thing was no longer possible. Very soon, they would be the ones who needed to fight for their future and the futures of those who came after them. They had been taking steps more over the summer after the TriWizard tournament, and this was one of them.

It was time that their generation stood up, and they knew that it would have to start with them.

"Well at least you guys are taking our precautions seriously…but, I've got some news about Harry." With that pandemonium also broke out within the room that he would've shared with Harry if things had been different.

"Harry?! What has happened Ron!? Was it Voldemort!?" of course the first to voice her concerns was Hermione.

She, like him, had been Harry's best friend and being the vocal young woman that she was, he expected nothing less.

Hermione had changed a lot since the day she had woken up to find that the Golden Trio had been reduced to the Bronze Duo in the wake of Harry's supposed execution through the Veil. No longer was she the girl, who looked up to and respected authority. After the authority she had looked up to had failed her best friend for the final time, she could no longer look at her elders with the rose-tinted glasses as she once did.

Now she was his second-in-command and member of the group that they were forming amongst those of their generation. Hermione was quickly becoming known as a veritable powerhouse, with the combination of her growing magical strength and her vast spell knowledge that only seemed to grow by the day. She no longer researched spells just for the sake of it, but for her to use against those that would like nothing more than to wipe her and those like her off the map.

She like him knew that at any moment all-out war could break out and she wanted to be ready.

"Calm down Hermione, I think it's a bit obvious that hasn't happened…we definitely would've heard about it by now." And that was the voice of reason in their group, Neville Longbottom. The butt of many jokes at Hogwarts had also changed from the shy stuttering mess that he once was, and was becoming a competent wizard that not many would want to duel against.

"Well she definitely wouldn't be our lovely lady Hermione if she didn't worry now would she?" His brothers, Fred and George crowed, with identical grins on their faces. If there was anyone out of their group that he could say hasn't changed a bit since Harry was tossed through the veil, it would be those two.

While they too weren't happy with death of their sister nor were they happy with what happened to Harry. They also realized there wasn't much they could do when most of their society believed in the boy's guilt.

If their pranks had become a lot more malicious over the years, well no one was willing to call them out on it were they?

"Don't worry about Harry; the wrackspurts will be unable to get ahold of him unless he himself allows it." Then there was Luna Lovegood, another addition to their group that Ron had personally brought into their fold. After the death of his sister, the Ravenclaw had no one in her corner. Ron could not count the number of times he and their group had to personally step in and shield her, before the bullies in her own house got the program.

'Though I guess Hermione's hex on Chang and her cronies seemed to be what finally got it through their thick skulls.' Ron could do nothing but grin at the shrieks of horror that emitted from the girls, when Hermione's hex took effect.

Many had realized that day that if there was anyone they should avoid being on the wrong end of the wand with, it was the muggleborn witch.

But turning his thoughts back to Luna's words, he looked straight into her dazed blue eyes and he saw the gentle smile on her face. After a moment, he forced himself to relax.

Luna, while her way of interpreting her thoughts was strange, was never wrong with these things. Harry was most likely alright, and seeing as there was no news of him being captured by the Ministry, nor Voldemort, or even the Order. It was likely that his friend was alright and was making his own plans.

"Alright, seeing as we cannot do anything about Harry at the moment, I feel that we should talk more about our goals for this year." Ron stated, and everyone's amusement faded away and their eyes steeled with resolve.

"While the Order wants to screw around, it is obvious that we're going to have to step up our recruitment as well as get the younger years up to speed…I have a feeling that this year is going to be hectic.

He had no idea just how right he was.

* * *

Taking a brief glance at the contents of the briefcase that was handed to him, Harry ignored the greedy gaze of his more recent employer. Having been a Hitman for longer than any other career (If being a slave for his relatives and then a lapdog for the Wizarding World counted as careers), he had managed to get. It didn't take long for him to fall back to what he did best: Killing people for profit.

And it seemed that there were _many_ people, who had the cash to throw around at anyone who was skilled enough to _erase_ a few people. But despite this familiar scene, the reality of his situation still managed to pierce the high he got from risking his life and using his hard-earned skills against others.

It had been five weeks since he was brought back into this world, and he wasn't a step closer to finding a way back home that didn't involve the Death Veil. Harry was almost at his wits end at this point. It didn't help that even though he had managed to be in contact with his friends and loved ones, they hadn't been able to make much progress in actually being able to make a gateway between this dimension and theirs.

Having gotten in contact with everyone, and finally told them his whole story (Dino had known some of it, but not all). The Lightning Flame user had believed that he would be home sooner than he expected, but that turned out to be false as their attempts met failure after failure. With each failure, Shōichi and Byakuran's interests were peaked, and they looked for a reason behind their failures.

What they found both surprised and didn't surprise Harry.

'The only thing that they've managed to confirm is that I'm nothing close to normal even in supernatural instances' Harry thought bemusedly at the amused looks Byakuran had sent his way, as he laid out the facts before everyone.

Apparently there was a barrier between their two worlds which made traversing between them impossible. Well…nearly impossible as he had obviously ended up there, when he should've been utterly destroyed.

Despite their setback, Harry had been told they would be doing their utmost best to find a way to bring him back to their dimension, though it would obviously take a while. Breaching the walls between dimensions wasn't something to be trifled with, or at least that was what a certain marshmallow eating bastard had said.

'Completely disregarding the fact that he himself has done the same thing numerous times (spiritually or something like that anyway, he still didn't quite understand it), and for stupid reasons!' the green-eyed hitman scoffed at the amused smirk the white-haired man had sent him, when he had voiced his thoughts out loud during the "call".

But regardless of what he thought, he knew that it would take a while before they could get to him, especially if he couldn't find his own way back by getting to and using the Death Veil.

"I must say that I'm impressed by your professionalism, it isn't easy to find a person of your caliber in this day and age." Dragging himself from his troubled thoughts, he locked eyes with the man sitting behind the desk with two bodyguards on either side of him. Something he noticed happened whenever he happened to be in the same room as the man, who had been using his services quite frequently since he made his first hit in his temporary employ.

'Well at least he's not stupid as well as greedy…' That much, Harry could respect.

Years of dealing with men like the one in front of him, has caused Harry to have some ounce of respect for them.

Yes, they may hire people like him for dubious purposes, but at least they weren't morons.

That was more than he could say for other people, and it helped that they knew enough to recognize a true threat when they saw one. Not that he would do much to them unless crossed, as it was their questionable jobs which put money in his pocket.

_**Never bite the hand that feeds you**_; the one lesson he had learned from the Dursleys that was of any worth.

Humming in reply to the man's compliment, Harry closed down the top of the briefcase with a "snap" before pulling it off of the desk. "Nice doing business with you, I'll take my leave."

Getting up from his seat, Harry glanced around the room once more before turning on the heel of his boots. The end of his trench coat flared out behind him as he moved to leave the door. If the time was correct then…

"Hold on!" the man's voice rang out as he threw out a palm facing Harry's back, causing the hitman to pause mid-way out the door.

Looking over his shoulder, he narrowed his eyes on the brown-haired man halfway standing behind his desk with his hand stretched out towards him.

Tightening his hold on the handle of the briefcase, Harry's eyebrows furrowed.

"Is there something I can help you with Mr. Worthington?"

Mr. Worthington snapped his fingers and one of his bodyguards slowly came towards the stoic hitman. The bodyguard then reached into his suit jacket, causing Harry's lips to thin into a straight line though his free hand dangling at his side gained a small spark around his fingertips. Seconds later the guard pulled out a white card before handing it to Harry.

Relaxing inwardly, Harry took it and glanced at it for no longer than a moment.

It was a business card.

Turning his gaze back onto the man who it belonged to, and instantly recognized the unsaid message.

"If you're interested in working for me full time, please do call that number. If I had more men like you in my employ, then I could definitely get things done around here." He commented, throwing him a million dollar smile that he undoubtedly used to win over his clients and subordinates in his line of business.

Any wet behind the ears brat would've been impressed, but unfortunately (for Worthington); Harry was not one of them.

Raising a brow, Harry hummed as he slipped the card into the pocket of his trench coat. Nodding towards the older gentlemen and his bodyguards, before he was out the door without a word of whether he would consider the deal or not.

As soon as the hitman left the room, the man behind the desk released a breath of relief and a hint of disappointment.

"Sir…" the man looked up towards his guard, whose lips were pulled into a thin line and his body was tense.

"Is it really alright for us to just leave someone like that running around?" he asked, and Worthington only sighed.

Steepling his hands, he gave a strained smile. "There isn't much that we could do with someone like him, I had someone try and look up his background, but nothing could be found…not to mention that after _that_ job we gave him…it wouldn't be smart for us to try and get rid of him."

Looking down at the folder of pictures showing the aftermath of the work of the very man they spoke of.

William Worthington IV shivered.

He was not lying when he said there weren't many men like him around, especially not in England anyway.

For now, all he could do was lament the fact that he personally had nothing to offer the man at the moment to make him stay. All he could do now was hope that no one chose to hire the man to use against him, and find himself being the next victim of the man's brutal but efficient talent for snuffing out lives.

Glancing over at the picture of his family sitting on the desk, he sighed.

With his day to day filled with plans on getting himself in top positions of power. William couldn't say confidently that he was close with his family by any means. In fact, his marriage and family had been eroding away for years now, and he avoided going home just to not have to deal with his wife's accusing eyes and the angry and disappointed eyes of his children.

"Maybe it's time that I start spending time with my family more…mend the bridge between Elizabeth and I, a vacation to the Bahamas would do the trick."

The guard by his side nodded slightly, though the corner of his lip quirked a bit.

"I think that's a great idea sir." The man watched as his boss got up to fetch himself a drink. Glancing down the picture of his boss and his family, he nodded contently.

As Worthington poured scotch and his mind became filled with thoughts of a happy future, their vision was consumed by blinding light then fire.

Standing outside the building, Harry stood with the suitcase in one hand and his other shoved into the pocket of his pants. As the gust of blazing hot wind caused the tail of his trench coat to whip out behind him, he closed his eyes.

"I'm assuming that I've fulfilled my end of the bargain ma'am." Opening his eyes, he glanced over at the woman who moved forward with content hazel eyes. The woman looked as beautiful as she was in the photo on his now ex-client's desk. The flames consuming Worthington's base of operations highlighted her pale golden blonde hair and high cheekbones.

Nodding, she placed a suitcase next to him even as she kept her gaze on the burning building.

"Yes, you've done more than I had expected…then again if my husband was good with something it was managing to get such talented people under his employment." Grunting, the green eyed wizard placed the suitcase he was holding in front of her. Grabbing the one she gave him, he lowered his gaze onto her.

"Everything that you need is in that suitcase, all of his clients, plans…anything that you may need is there for your use." The woman nodded, bringing a hand up to brush away a tear that fell down her cheek while the other brushed her stomach.

"Thank you for what you've done, now my children and I are free from him." She stated, before walking away.

Not saying anything in return Harry also walked away into the night.

When morning came, news of the tragic explosion taking the life of a well-liked candidate for the office of Prime Minister would be all over the media. The nation would mourn for the loss of such a promising man, and his family would be supported by all as they grieved and then attempt to move on.

All the while, everyone would be ignorant to the truth.

The truth being, the same woman that will cry for the husband she lost before his time was the same who had literally ordered his death.

'Not that it's any of my business…' Harry mused.

Humming, he glanced down at the suitcase in his hand. At least he'll be able to survive off of this for quite a while without having to take another job. More time for him to think of ways back home.

* * *

It was at sunset the next day that Harry left his hotel room. Walking into the small corner pub as the sun began to set the next day, Harry scanned the room around him briefly, categorizing everyone that was occupying the room. None of them could be considered a threat, though some looked more capable than others. Only a few had looked up in his direction momentarily before returning to their conversations with other patrons, while others ignored him completely and went about his business. The green-eyed man had to try to keep his lips from curling up into a smirk.

'Now, what a quaint place…' he thought, making his way over to a table in one of the less-populated corners where everyone in the pub would be in his line of sight. All the tables were big enough for a group of four people, and had a small bowl filled with pretzels in the center. Picking one that was over in a corner by the window, he set his knapsack on the stone windowsill that showed glimpses of people walking by.

Harry glanced up in time to see one of the young waitresses making her way towards him with a smile.

A very _familiar_ smile actually.

It was too _familiar_ for comfort.

It was only when she came and sat at his table, that he was able to look beyond her surface appearance and suddenly had to resist the urge to growl.

Obviously she had noticed his growing ire, as her blue, borderline violet eyes practically sparkled in amusement.

"Well I've got to say, my other self certainly hadn't mentioned how handsome you are." The sing-song tune she used, caused the corner of his lip to twitch in the way that only one person could. The same person, who even after all this time of being acquainted and somewhat friends, managed to get under his skin like no other.

Inhaling deeply, he continued to stare at her with narrowed green eyes.

"Well he certainly hadn't told me or anyone else of your presence here in Britain, much less that his counterpart in this dimension is actually a _**woman**_."

Giggling at his obvious irritation, she flipped her pale, pale blonde almost white hair over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed and her smile resembled that of the Cheshire Cat.

"Now then, while you're staying in my turf you'll be my responsibility…hearing of your talents, I've already gotten some jobs lined up for your to fulfill." Resting her chin on the back of her hand, she reached forward to the small bowl in the center of the table and grabbed a pretzel before popping it into her mouth. Chewing it, the corner of her mouth curled up into a smirk.

"For the amount of time you're here, just call me…Bianca!"

Yep, Harry was definitely going to shove his foot up that marshmallow eating bastard's ass when he got home.

* * *

**End of Chapter 3**

Well those that have read this before can obviously tell that there was a little content added to this and I hope you enjoyed it! I will try to update as soon as I can, but as I'm getting closer to graduation and starting my job…well my time will be spent mostly dedicated to RL opposed to Fanfiction.

If someone wants to volunteer to be my Beta, just let me know in a PM. That would definitely be appreciated. Like I said, any constructive suggestions that would help me improve my writing will always be welcome. Just don't be a dick about it, and it'll be fine. 8D

Laterz~


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